Imbalance in The Force
by Loralei Dawson
Summary: A parody in response to the inundation of romance fictions, in the action-oriented world of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. Featuring The Exile as the main character, with the full crew of the Ebon Hawk, from both KOTOR games.


**Imbalance in the Force**

Parody of the plethera of romance stories in the action-oriented world of Knights of the Old Republic.

Told from the viewpoint of Meetra Surik - The Exile, and featuring the full crew of the Ebon Hawk, from both KOTOR games.

For my brother, to (hopefully) make him laugh. :)

**Chapter 1**

At first, it seemed like a normal reaction to the end of a long and terrible war. Families had been ripped apart, and countless sentients lost to the ravages of three horrific wars that happened one after the other.

Once the initial festivites died down, they began all over again – in the form of weddings. You know, people marry, they have tons of kids, they repopulate the galaxy again, right?

Only, there were _way_ too many weddings. And all the businesses started catering to it. Everything covered in hearts, nothing but balloons, chocolate, and flowers. Then, they started lowering the legal age requirement for marriage. And making official holidays that celebrated...what? Love?, more warm fuzzies? But I had enough of it when I started reading last week's newsholos. The headline?

**"Aqualish and Rodian Declare Their Everlasting Devotion! Love Conquers all!"**

First, I lost my breakfast. Then I lost my temper. Then I lost my common sense, and instead of enjoying my restful, quiet vacation where I wasn't responsisble for the fate of the galaxy, I decided to go get some answers.

After some thought, I figured I'd try to see my old friend, Admiral Carth Onasi. He has more contacts in the know than I do, really. The powers that be in the Republic are always expecting me to save them, but Force forbid I have any say when our lives aren't in danger.

Surprisingly, I actually managed to see Carth in person. First a few pleasantries, and then I remembered he'd found his son. "So, how is Dustil these days?" I asked.

A rather uncomfortable pause.

"Well, uh...he and...Mission are thinking about getting married."

A very awkward silence.

I thought for a minute. After I'd come back from my Exile, and had a moment, I'd tried catching up on recent events. I must have picked up the tabloid newsvid version of of Revan and his cronie's capers because I was sure...

"Oh, I must have heard a mixed up version of Revan's crew, I thought Mission Vao was a Twiilek." I laughed and smiled, trying to ease the tension his comment and my silence had caused.

Carth stared at me for a minute.

I stared back. Ha, I went up against Darth Atrus single handed, I beat Darth Nihilus without batting an eye, if Carth thought I couldn't win a staring contest, then I was losing my edge.

He sighed. "Mission _is_ a Twiilek."

_What?_ I blinked.

**Chapter 2**

Carth led me down a hallway on Telos station. "It's a good thing you came when you did, I was going to send for you."

_Oh really?_ I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Bastila can explain what we think is going on. You know, all the sudden...um...Romance." He bit out the last word and muttered someting under his breath.

I have excellent hearing, but all I caught was something about immature, irrational behaviour. Which was, I thought, a good way to describe just about everything lately.

Upon reaching the end of the hall, Carth keyed the intercom of the door. "Bastila? Meetra Surik is here to see you."

I'd heard Bastila Shen described as a great beauty. A Jedi Princess, if you will. I was rather...disappointed. The woman looked haggard and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes which were red-rimmed and quite bloodshot.

She offered me tea. What is it with Jedi and tea? Personally, I could have used some Correllian Ale, but I accepted the tea with as good of grace as I could muster.

"The Force is..imbalanced." She said woefully.

I sighed rather loudly, and clunked my teacup down hard. Some boiling hot liquid sloshed over the rim onto my hand. I shook the droplets off impatiently. "The Jedi are always saying the Force is imbalanced."

Bastila looked at my now cracked teacup a little reproachfully. "It's a different kind of imbalance than in previous eras."

I would have sighed again, but I try to limit myself to only one per conversation per day. Too bad I already used this one up. I had a bad feeling I was going to want it soon.

"Bastila," I began calmly, "What does an imbalance in the Force have to do with all this...this mush?!" I finished disgustedly.

"You see, Revan and I are destined to be together. However, he wouldn't let me go with him into the Unknown Regions, he said it was too dangerous, and the Republic needed the rest of us to return and help stablize the government. But the separation has caused unforeseen problems with our force-bond."

Her eyes got even redder (I had doubted this was possible), and she sniffed a bit into her teacup.

I gritted my teeth. The Jedi Code be cursed, I HATE sentimentality. I'm a General. I lead armies, I get sweaty, dirty, and I kill five people at a time with my sabers – I DON'T do tea parties with weepy Jedi. Still, patience is a virtue, even if it _is_ in The Code.

Finally, she started up again.

"Being parted from Revan has made me so forlorn and despondent (_No kidding, I internally scoffed_) that I must meditate or I lose my control of the Force and cause great damage. However, when I do meditate...I slip into Battle Meditation." Bastila finished off, and her shoulders straigthened a little as if her confession had lightened a great load.

"So...what's wrong with that? I mean, there aren't any armies to decimate at the moment, but that shouldn't - "

"Don't you see?!" She interrupted, "Every time I Battle Meditate more and more drastic and strange things happen around the Galaxy. Carth thinks if I stay separated from Revan, it will only get worse.!"

And then it clicked. All those holidays? The flowers, hearts, chocolate and weddings, all of this ... this _sentiment_ was Bastila Shen's fault. Her and her Battle Meditation.

I'd like to say that I high-tailed it out of there, and went on vacation somewhere beyond the Outer Rim.

But Bastila broke down and begged me (pitiful, just pitiful) to take her to Revan, and Carth gave me one of those "The Republic and Galaxy at large is suffering and only you can save it" speeches. Before I knew it, I was outfitting the Ebon Hawk to travel to the Unknown Regions to search for Revan, and get Bastila away from the Republic. Kill two lovebirds with one stone, so to speak.

Carth took the more-the-merrier aproach and said he'd gather Revan's old band together. I said it would be too many on a tiny ship and I worked better with a few of my old crew.

Well, an Admiral and a General can argue for hours, and try to pull rank on each other, but they can't really give in to the other, so a compromise was reached. We took everyone with us. Yes, on board the dear old Ebon Hawk, which wasn't really big enough for just me and my comrades, let alone Revan's cohorts.

Still we settled in well enough, with beds crammed in corners, droids getting in the way, and more weapons and armour than food and medical supplies.

Every other day or so, something on the ship would get destroyed by Bastila's out-of-control Force powers. I could live with it just fine; T3-M4 and Bao-Dur kept up on repairs quite nicely. But apparently being unable to control the Force leads to _The Dark Side_, or is against The Code or something, because Bastila dramatically proclaimed she couldn't take the shame of it any longer and ... ... meditated.

And _that_, is when all seven Correllian Hells broke loose.

**Chapter 3**

I was in the engine room, checking an odd tick in the engine when it happened. An unbelievably loud commotion was coming from the garage. I headed out to investigate.

The sight that met my eyes will no doubt confuse and terrify me for years. There was a full blown fight going between Canderous and HanHarr - Mandalore, a veteran of more battles than _I've_ been in, and a completely mad Wookie. I separated them just long enough to get some indecipherable growls from HanHarr and a bit of incoherant declarations of desire for Mira from Canderous.

I looked around for Mira, who was fighting for her life behind my (now completely trashed) swoop bike, against Juhani, who was screeching, "I will be your doom! The Mandalorian is mine!"

Mira was shouting, "I don't want him, you crazy cat woman!" And parrying with her lightsaber against Juhani's rather dirty fighting style. Huh, she must not believe in following The Code in a saber fight.

I tried breaking them up also, but then Juhani turned to me and fiercly announced that Canderous was hers and I couldn't have him, so I beat a hasty retreat and went to the source of the trouble.

Bastila was in the port dormitory, crying into a soggy handkerchief. "Bastila! You and your blasted Battle meditation is demoralizing my crew, destroyed my swoop bike and is driving me insane!" I yelled at her.

"Exile?" Bastila whispered.

"What?" I bit out.

"Revan and I stood just where you stand now, and ... and kissed." She sighed in the most sickening and sappy manner I have ever had the displeasure to hear.

I let out a few choice words no lady should utter, and would have slapped her, but was afraid it would knock her out. Who knew if she Battle Meditated unconcious as well?

So, I figured I'd go get Carth and let him deal with her. I knew he wasn't in the starboard dorm, because Mission and Dustil had sequestered themselves in there with provisions, and sealed the door. No one had seen them since, and nobody had cared to chance being disturbed by them. Er, I mean disturbing them.

I tried the cargo hold. Carth was there alright; he was holding Visas' hand, and whispering something in her ear. Maybe it was those "sweet nothings" I've heard about, but I didn't stay to check.

Jolee! I thought. He could bring anyone down to planet surface. I ran to the Medbay. He and Zaalbar were quite drunk and singing ribald love songs in Shiriwook. My frustration mounting, I went to check with Atton to see if maybe we would be in the Outermost Reaches soon. If reuniting Bastila with Revan doesn't fix the problem, at least it won't be my responsibility anymore.

The Handmaiden was trying to convince Atton to learn some Echani Dance moves. Or maybe it was a Battle Form. I left so quickly, I couldn't be sure.

I sprinted to the storage room hoping for a minute or two alone, to try to control my mounting disbelief...and was accosted by the Disciple. Him, I had no qualms about knocking out.. I might have kicked him around a little first, but none of the other crew members were around to protest, so...

I walked into the main hold feeling a little better only to meet with a situation which will give me more horrific nightmares than the Shadow Generator for countless years to come.

Kreia and Bao-Dur walked up to me. A smile of relief stretched across my face. "Kreia! Just who I needed to see, I could really use some meditation, want to join me?"

Her reply knocked the breath from my lungs.

"Not just now, Exile", she began slowly in a tone I knew led up to something important, "I have something I must tell you." She paused, drew breath, and in her low, gravelly tone continued, "I have fallen ardently in love with the alien."

Panic overtook me. "You're joking right? That's impossible, you... you're supposed to be my rock of sanity in this sea of chaos, you can't be serious!" I had started out quietly - by now I was shouting, "Bao-Dur! Tell me she's making this up!"

His smooth, laid-back tones started up. "Well, you see General, we just now realized how much we have in common. I mean, we're both missing an arm..."

I screamed and ran to the only place I hadn't been yet, the communications room, sealed it, and decided if anyone else was in here I would hit them with a stasis field and never let them out of it.

It was only the droids. GOTO ignored me, T3-M4 beeped in greeting and HK-47 nodded to me in acknowledgment.

I heaved a great sigh of relief. "Ah, HK, it's crazier than Coruscant on New Year's out there."

"Emphatic Agreement: Indeed, Master. Such pheromone driven behaviour never ceases to decrease the charge in my capacitors, and makes me wish I could put a blaster pistol to my behavior core and pull the trigger."

"Me too, HK, ... me too."

**The End**


End file.
